


Not For Me

by daphnerunning



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Anal Sex, Corsetry, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd bought the lacy things as a gift, really. Kotetsu's not exactly sure how he became the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not For Me

_Calm down, Kotetsu. There’s no way he can tell._

It’s easy to tell himself, but hard to make it convincing—not when Barnaby’s eyes are tracking him like he’s prey, not when Barnaby hasn’t gotten up from behind his desk all day, not when he can feel Barnaby  _staring_  for hours on end. He shifts, just a little, and Barnaby’s lips part.

 _Shit, he can tell_.

Kotetsu berates himself the entire way through the day, even as Barnaby’s gaze makes him hard inside his pants, even as he fails spectacularly to get any work done, though that’s nothing too unusual. Then again, maybe he’d be hard anyway, because it sends a tingle through him every time his legs brush against each other, every time he shifts and feels the lace, the straps against the skin of his hips and thighs, the ribbon digging into his back.

“Kotetsu.”

Kotetsu’s eyes snap up, meeting Barnaby’s hooded green ones, and he stammers, “Uh…y-yeah, Bunny?”

“It’s past time to go. Didn’t you notice?”

“Oh!” He hadn’t, had been too busy focusing on how embarrassing it would be if Bunny caught him like this, but he packs up as quickly as possible, trying to avoid awkward conversations. “Yeah, I was just…heading home.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, no, you’ve got your own stuff to—“

“I don’t have any other plans today,” Barnaby announces smartly, shutting the drawer of his desk. “Unless you don’t want me to come over?”

 _I can just say I have to use the bathroom when I get home_ , Kotetsu reasons, looking at the way Barnaby’s smile started to falter when he asked his question.  _Then I can take all this off and he’ll never have to know._

“Yeah,” he acquiesces, “I want you to. Let’s go.”

They take Barnaby’s car back, kind of a necessity since Kotetsu stayed at his place the night before, and Kotetsu tries not to squirm the whole way home.

“Your posture is better.”

“I-is it? Hehe, I didn’t, uh…”

“Usually you slouch. Now it’s as if there’s something holding you straight up.”

Kotetsu scratches the back of his head, trying not to look guilty. “Strange!”

Kotetsu opens the door with his key, then announces, “Just hold tight for a second, I have to—“

Barnaby grabs him and shoves him up against the wall, pinning him there with a strong arm as much as with his gaze. Barnaby’s eyes bore into his, and he licks his lips. “Take off your shirt.”

“But—“

“Or I’ll rip it off.”

If Barnaby didn’t sound so  _hungry_ , as if there were nothing in the world he wants more than Kotetsu right now, he wouldn’t have done it. Barnaby’s eyes _burn_ , his hands are almost shaking, and god, how long has it been since someone’s wanted Kotetsu like this? Just one look from those bright green eyes makes Kotetsu achingly hard—one touch from the younger man’s hands turns him into an animal. Slowly, flushed painfully red, Kotetsu removes his vest and unbuttons his shirt. “I…it’s not mine, I didn’t mean—“

Barnaby’s mouth opens, and a noise that’s somewhere between a sigh and a groan comes out. “Kotetsu,” he breathes, running a hand down the stiff material of the corset, “where the hell did you get this?”

“Bought it for you,” Kotetsu says sheepishly, tossing his shirt on the floor. “Remembered you kind of liked the one in the store, and—mmphm!”

Barnaby’s mouth is hot on his, demanding, urgent, as he pushes Kotetsu back against the door. Barnaby’s not gentle, not taking it slow, but biting, licking, sucking at his lips and tongue, kissing him like he’s got something to  _prove_.

And god, Kotetsu can’t imagine pushing him away. His hands go up to Barnaby’s hair, pulling him down harder, tangling, scratching, yanking. Barnaby tastes  _good_ , kisses like it’s his last chance, and leans forward to press him back against the door, hips driving hard against Kotetsu’s.

And he stops.

He pulls back, eyes half-closed, focused on Kotetsu’s pants. “If I were to take those off you right now,” he says slowly, blinking several times, “I’d find something…interesting, wouldn’t I?”

Kotetsu’s flush must be answer enough, because Barnaby tosses him over a shoulder without a second’s hesitation, barely getting up the stairs to the bed before tossing Kotetsu down. “Strip them off,” he pants, shucking his own clothes as quickly as he can. “Then, facedown.”

It’s like he doesn’t have a  _choice_ , like Barnaby’s going to have his way whether Kotetsu wants it or not—and he knows, knows perfectly well that that couldn’t be farther from the case, but damned if the idea doesn’t make him harder. So hard it’s difficult to wriggle out of his pants, and even though his face burns at the thought of anyone, of  _Barnaby_  seeing him like this…

“Fuck.”

Barnaby doesn’t swear much, not like him, and that’s almost enough to make up for the humiliation he feels when Barnaby’s eyes rake over the thigh-highs, the lace, the garters, not to mention the corset. He moves to get on the bed like Barnaby said, but Barnaby’s behind him, unable to wait, grinding down hard against Kotetsu’s ass. “Why,” he pants, the hard line of his cock making Kotetsu’s hips jerk, his lips part in arousal, “the fuck…do you own these?”

Kotetsu buries his face in the pillow, unable to think of anything except having that perfect hard cock  _inside_  him. Not something he ever thought he’d want, but oh, every time it happened he’d been reduced to nothing but a begging, writhing  _mess_ , and he was dead sure today would be no different.

“Need to be inside you,” Barnaby mutters, and Kotetsu nods frantically.

“Bunny—fuck me, I—“

Barnaby’s hands run over the lace, the garters, before easing them down over his ass, hands digging in hard. “I need—“

“ _Fuck_  me!”

Barnaby leans over him, face buried in the crook of his neck, sucking hard on the skin. “I like hearing you say that,” he murmurs, and Kotetsu bucks back at the feeling of the slick head rubbing across his hole. Kotetsu didn’t even notice him grabbing the lube, not until slick fingers are fucking him, making him spread his legs and growl, rutting down against the bed.

It doesn’t matter that he bought the lingerie for  _Barnaby_  to wear, to see him blond and svelt and even kind of  _pretty_  in it, or that he only tried it on out of curiosity before work and didn’t realize how difficult it would be to get the corset off. It doesn’t matter that he should be  _ashamed_  of himself, should want anything except Barnaby seeing, Barnaby mocking, Barnaby touching him in this soft, girly stuff.

Kotetsu grits his teeth, then gasps as Barnaby grabs the corset strings, yanking them tighter just as he thrusts in.

Two seconds in and it’s already  _too much_ , as Kotetsu’s mouth falls open and his hands scrabble at the sheets, as he’s spread and filled and  _fucked_  in a deep, thorough thrust, as the sides of the corset draw together, squeezing his ribs until he’s breathing in low shallow pants, aching for more—more breath, more sensation, more of  _Barnaby’s cock_  inside him.

He tries to say he can’t breathe, can’t even  _move_  with how Barnaby’s hauling him back by the strings, but groans instead. It’s good—always good when they have sex,  _really_  good when he’s fucking Barnaby into the mattress, but this is _better_. Better because Barnaby’s losing control, thrusting into him hard and fast and  _demanding_ , harsh ragged breaths hot against his ear. Better because his vision is swimming and he can’t tell if that’s because he can’t breathe or because it’s so  _good_ , because Barnaby’s cock is stretching him until it burns, driving against his prostate until he’s aching and trembling, until all he can say is “More…Bunny,  _more_ …”

Barnaby yanks him back by the corset strings, driving himself  _deeper_ , filling Kotetsu until he can barely  _think_. “God, Kotetsu…if you could—ahh—see yourself right now—feel so good—“

One of his hands steals around, closes on his cock, and Kotetsu cries out, hips bucking forward and back, white spots popping in front of his eyes. It takes three, four strokes at most, and the rasping demand of “Come for me, Kotetsu,” before he spills over Barnaby’s hand, over the sheets. Barnaby slams into him over and over, using him in brutal, savage thrusts, Kotetsu arching and gasping as he uses the strings like a handle, driving in deeper every time.

Kotetsu opens his eyes.

He blinks, coughs, and Barnaby’s pulling out with a sigh, placing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. Barnaby doesn’t seem to have noticed, and Kotetsu hardly wants to ruin the moment by asking  _how long did you fuck me after I passed out_ , so he lets it go, content instead to turn over and pull Barnaby down for a long kiss. He’s aching, can feel himself dripping, and he grins up at Barnaby. “You ruined it.”

“Me? What did—“

“All this.” Kotetsu waves down at the corset, stockings, garters—all smeared with fluid, all torn and sweaty and abused. “I bought it for you.”

Barnaby smiles, gives his ass a pinch and stretches out next to him. “I like it better like this anyway.”

“I’m not wearing it again!”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

With a promise like that, Kotetsu can’t quite see himself resisting.

Or complaining.


End file.
